


Zero Day

by that_runneth



Category: Tron (Movies), Tron - All Media Types, Tron: Legacy (2010)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Dark, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-06
Updated: 2016-09-06
Packaged: 2018-08-13 09:30:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,932
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7971832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/that_runneth/pseuds/that_runneth
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This started as PWP, then plot happened. Please heed the warnings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Zero Day

 I.

  The room was dark and quiet. The light of the freshly installed terminals was blinking slowly; it had not been long ago that technicians from the city had come to upload data from the administration building. Soon there would be new programs coming to fill the establishment and would begin working… but not now, not yet.

 

  Clu was alone in the building; earlier he had walked upstairs without turning the lights on and now he was looking at the blank monitors impassively. Another new sector up and running, soon to be populated – he should have felt the pang of pride over that idea. He slowly moved and went closer to the windows. Outside the street was mostly empty: there were system utilities working on the building across, and trucks drove by time to time. Clu looked down. A single bike was approaching slowly. The pilot, a program in black suit, was scanning the surrounding area. For a moment it seemed that the patrol vehicle would pass the new office building; then the light cycle stopped. There was no movement on the street, nothing that could have made the security program suspicious. The program looked up at the building; his face was hidden behind his dark visor. After short hesitation the pilot got off the bike and started towards the entrance. Clu stepped back from the window.

 

  The security program was coming upstairs. Clu flattened himself against the wall behind a console. He had turned off the circuit lights on his attire and now he was invisible in the dark room. The security program’s silhouette appeared in the door, before the soft, blue light of the hallway. He was easily recognizable by his distinguishing circuit pattern as he was standing there silently, scanning the room for the intruder. Behind the console Clu smirked in the darkness. There was no way for Tron to detect that motion, yet he lunged forward immediately. Clu stepped out from the corner just in time to intercept the security program. He grabbed the Tron’s waist with both hands and lifted him up from the floor, using the program’s own speed. At the same time Clu felt Tron’s legs wrapping around him. He had seen system monitors in training before enough times to know that stunt: just in a moment that grip would turn crushing and the security program would bring him down to the floor.

 

  He felt Tron’s arms around his neck. Clu slid his hands under the program’s thighs. With a soft click the warrior’s helmet deactivated and Clu saw Tron’s eyes glowing in the dark with their faint, blue light before the program leaned ahead and kissed Clu. Clu was standing there, holding Tron in his arms and he felt it now, the pride upon his accomplishment – that he had done well enough, that he was good enough to be chosen. Tron was playing with his hair and his teeth were nibbling at Clu’s lips. Clu groaned; his fingers sank into the black suit on the security program’s thighs. Tron chuckled and leaned back in Clu’s arms. He was playing, Clu thought, but then, there was nothing new in that. He stepped to the closest desk and put Tron down, making him sit on the smooth, black surface. Immediately he pushed between Tron’s legs and took the program’s face between his now free hands. Clu turned Tron’s head slightly aside, so that he could see his face in the dimness.

 

  “What?” Tron asked. Clu could never tell if he was serious, if the program was truly not aware of how beautiful he looked like, if he was really that naïve. Tron stirred impatiently. Clu leaned there and kissed the program deeply. His right hand slid down, under Tron’s neck; he put his other hand on the program’s throat. The black suit began dissolving under his fingers. Tron closed his eyes and his head fell back slowly. Clu began kissing his neck; the light of the security program’s circuitry strengthened for a moment, then it turned dark blue. More of the black combat suit disappeared on Tron’s chest upon Clu’s touches, revealing a different pattern of circuits. The glowing energy lines on the program’s skin were more complex, more extensive than the ones on his suit – a memento of a world long lost, a world unknown for Clu, from where the Creator had once brought Tron. Clu lifted his head. Despite of the situation, despite of his desires he caught himself pondering about those times, the times before his own creation; about the programs Tron had loved before him. The security program straightened himself and looked at Clu, as if he sensed what the system administrator was thinking about. His face, his ever youthful features would not tell about the centuries he had lived through nor about the things he had seen before. He pushed Clu away suddenly and the program jumped down from the desk with a fluent motion. Tron walked to the window and stopped there, with his back to Clu. He looked down the street without offering a word. Clu went after him; he crashed Tron against the window almost violently. The program stayed silent and motionless, pressed against the glass. Clu reached for Tron’s disc and removed it from the port. His other hand, which was holding the program in place, slid down and dissolved the clothing on Tron’s back. He dropped the disc on a nearby chair and he turned back to the program. He was holding Tron still as he began kissing the program’s neck and down, along the intricate, glowing pattern. Tron’s circuitry flared up again with its purple light. Clu took his time kissing the smooth skin inch by inch. Tron’s hands lifted and the program scratched the surface of the window inadvertently. Clu grinned; his own hands locked around Tron’s waist.

 

  “Someone might see us,” Tron said quietly in a raspy voice. He was still standing pressed against the window; with burning, violet circuits on his partially clothed chest. Clu stopped at those words.

 

  “Do you mind that?” he asked. It had been a while that they had been seeing each other; it was a private matter, but Clu was curious to hear the answer. And had they been caught, he was thinking, then what? Clu did not care for the rest of the Grid to know how lucky he was. He would not care for the gossip; he would not care for the word getting back to the Creator... Or would he?

 

  “No,” Tron replied. Clu straightened himself; with the same motion he lifted the program in his arms. He glanced at the window over his shoulder as he was walking away and the glass turned dark, opaque, blocking the view from the outside. Tron tensed in his arms for a moment; Clu looked at him and he saw the surprise on his face, the astonishment at the system administrator’s newly revealed capability.

 

  Clu pushed the program against the wall without putting Tron down; he was done playing. The security program’s legs tightened around his hips once more and Clu’s groin pressed against Tron’s backside. The position Clu was holding him had come from a distant memory of the system administrator, something he had inherited from Kevin Flynn. Tron did not seem to recognize it or to even notice it and that made Clu relieved, even if he was not suspicious about them… Not quite. His attire fell apart and his circuitry, hidden until then, flared up. Tron wrapped his arms around Clu’s neck and their circuits finally locked together. Tron cried out. Overwhelmed by the pleasure, Clu looked up at the program’s face, illuminated by the deep, purple glow of their connected circuits. Tron’s eyes were shut tight and he bit down on his lower lip. Clu could not name anything more beautiful he had ever seen before. He groaned and buried his face in Tron’s neck. Energy was flowing between them unobstructed for a while; without noticing that Tron moved, Clu felt the program’s hands on his own face. He looked up drunkenly. Tron was watching him with unreadable expression. They were both very close. Tron leaned ahead and kissed Clu; the light of their connected circuits made a bright flash. Clu groaned into the kiss and he felt Tron’s fingers sinking into his shoulder. He slid down, ending up kneeling on the floor, with Tron sitting in his lap. The program lifted his head; his hair fell in his face and he was smiling smugly.

 

  “You can let me go now,” he said.

 

 

II.

 

  Somebody moved in the tunnel. Clu looked there and saw two Black Guards taking their position. He turned back to the square the Creator was going to cross shortly. This was the shortest exit from the inauguration place to the freeway; Tron was going to bring Kevin Flynn here, on the way to the portal.

 

  Clu waited. He was calm; the anger had lasted until he had made his decision. His circuits were bright golden on his black suit, accompanied by the red of the Black Guards. Noise came from the direction of the street; the clean up crew after the viral attack. Soon other sounds joined that noise; approaching footsteps and quiet conversation.

 

  “Your transport to the portal is waiting for you,” Tron said. “I don’t like it when you cut it this close.”

 

  Clu looked at them as they were crossing the place. He, Clu was here to do his job, yet he felt a flare now. He rarely saw Tron these days; the security program had cut off the contact when he had begun to suspect Clu behind the terror attacks. It was almost laughable in its simplicity; Tron was a soldier, not a spy, he had to put distance between himself and the target in order to properly investigate the threat. There was nothing personal in his request to not to meet anymore; but with the same effort he could have told Clu in the face that he had found out about his plans.

 

  “Will you stop worrying about it, Tron?” Kevin Flynn asked. There was a smile in his voice. “Everything’s just fine. Everything is under control.”

 

  “Flynn!” Clu yelled. The Creator and Tron stopped and turned at him. Tron was smiling, but the smile disappeared when he looked at Clu. “Am I still to create the perfect system?”

 

  “Yeah,” Flynn replied, slightly dumbfounded. Clu nodded at the confirmation; his helmet materialized around his head. Flynn and Tron were looking around as they were surrounded by the guards. Tron took out his disc and Flynn ran. Clu went after the Creator; four Black Guards were going to be just enough to hold back Tron.

 

  He caught up with Flynn momentarily; he grabbed the Creator by the throat and spat his words in his scared face.

 

  “You’ve been corrupted,” Clu said. He threw Flynn down, who scampered away immediately. He was just as cowardly and miserable like Clu had imagined he would be.

 

  “Why?” Flynn was asking. “Why?”

 

  Clu was going after him with measured steps. Suddenly he was tackled to the ground; through the touch he felt Tron before he turned around to see the program. Tron had his disc in hand – Clu could have been dead by now. The remains of the Black Guards were lying not far from them. Tron punched Clu.

 

  “Flynn!” Tron yelled. “Go!”

 

  The Creator jumped to his feet and ran. Clu threw the security program off of him, then reached there and gave him a surge of energy, that left Tron paralyzed. Clu could have been satisfied with that, but he was furious about the intervention. He took out his disc and raised it high. Clu waited long enough for Tron to look up and realize what was coming to him. The program screamed and the disc fell.

 

 

III.

 

  The sleeping programs were hanging next to each other with dark circuits. Their heads were slightly lolling back and forth when the ship stopped, but none of them awakened from their deep sleep. They were going to arrive to Tron City soon, where all the occupants of the Rectifier would be restarted and released. They would leave and report for duty at their new assigned workplaces.

 

  The guards around were silent. There was no threat anymore; it had been cycles that Arjia City had fallen, that the last ISOs had been cleaned up from the system. Kevin Flynn had disappeared, had run for his life without fighting for his domain; the portal had closed and would not open anymore. There was peace now, hardly won, meant to last.

 

  The lights turned on inside of the shipping container. A program must have moved there. Clu looked down from the bridge. There was an empty spot in the container, one place left open between the rectified programs hanging on the racks. One program was not attached to the frame, but was lying on the floor, curled up in his sleep. Through the transparent ceiling of the container Clu saw him waking up and emerging, disoriented. It was Tron; the program’s face was not visible from where the system administrator was standing, but from the way Tron was turning his head around, Clu could tell that he was in distress. The security program had awakened surrounded by his rectified friends and other people he had known for long, Clu had made sure of that. In the container Tron was turning around frantically and then he began to run. The sleeping programs were swinging on their racks lightly as Tron was rushing through them. The door of the container flung open and the security program burst out. Tron fell on his knees. His arm, which had been nearly severed during his duel with Clu, had been healed.  He was missing his disc; his strength and speed was tuned down.

 

  The guards formed a circle around the program. Tron looked up and his hand shot out for his disc. His hand came back slow and empty; he must have realized that the changes in his settings made him incapable to fight. Tron was looking on all sides, staring at the Reds, that surrounded him with their staffs drawn. The program looked up suddenly and he spotted Clu. Tron snarled at him.

 

  Clu smiled. He started and went downstairs. The guards opened up their circle for him. Tron was still on his knees, apparently considering his options. While there was no way for the program to know about the events which had taken place since the coup, from the mere fact that they were here, he could tell that Flynn was still on the Grid and that Clu had won the fight.

 

  “Is he alive?” he asked in a low voice. Clu stopped smiling. The program, of course, was simple; he fought for the User. Clu had had plans for this reunion, to introduce Tron to the new order in a timely manner. He could have still done that, obviously, but it was pointless: Tron was still going to look for a way out or for an opportunity to overthrow Clu, even if it was hopeless for him to attempt. He might as well skipped the formalities.

 

  “Yes,” Clu said. He stepped ahead and grabbed Tron’s wrist. The security program tried to bring him to the floor immediately. Clu started without a pause and Tron almost fell on his face when he was fighting back. Clu dragged him through the bridge and he felt the resistance fading step by step as the program figured that the only thing he could accomplish with the struggle was to embarrass himself in front of the Reds.

 

  It was only the small portion of Clu’s army on the Rectifier, yet he saw Tron growing more and more frightened at the number of guards around and at the sea of containers on the ship. All the rebellious spirit evaporated by the time they reached the docked command ship. The programs working onboard nodded at Clu reverently and then they turned back to their duties. Clu walked through he door leading to his own quarters. The door closed behind them and the system administrator let go of Tron’s wrist. The program was glancing around quickly; the room had no windows. A simple counter separated the entrance from the bedchamber.

 

  “He is alive,” Clu said. “And gone, hiding somewhere. There are no more ISOs, nor traitors around anymore.”

 

  He could have been more detailed, could have talked about the battles and the hunt; but he was talking to a security program. Clu saw that his words worked; it took Tron a moment to gather himself.

 

  “What do you want?” Tron asked coldly. He did well hiding his fear, Clu gave him that much.

 

  “I want you to make a decision,” he said.

 

  “To join you,” Tron said angrily. Clu laughed, for the first time in cycles.

 

  “That was not the question,” he said. “You will join me, this way or another. The decision you can make, you can get rectified or you can stay yourself.”

 

  Tron was staring at him furiously.

 

  “I will never join you,” he stated.

 

  “That’s where you are wrong. Not for the first time, though.”

 

  “I stay who I am and you’ll be defeated,” Tron said. There was pride in his voice, for the first time since they had started talking. “That’s my answer.”

 

  “Fine. But consider something: you are not going anywhere. So you can get rectified. It will be almost the same, except for you will be no longer fighting for that User. You will serve the system and your fellow programs instead. That’s your core programming, you can not override that by choice. But the reprogramming can. Should you choose that, you will get your disc back and I will readjust your settings. And you can walk out from here freely.”

 

  “Free?” Tron asked sarcastically. “I will be your pawn. You will turn me against the people I was created to protect.”

 

  “Those people are the enemies of the system. Then again, it is your choice. You can stay yourself. But in that case you stay the way you are, for I am not going to give back your abilities just so you can go and incite rebellion. Pick that, and you will never walk free again. Your settings will remain tuned down, to make sure that you are not making trouble.”

 

  Clu was watching the program’s face as he was speaking; he could not help, but smiled at the dismay he saw.

 

  “Also, regardless of which option you go with,” Clu said. “You are mine.”

 

  Tron took a step back. He was in shock.

 

  “No,” he said.

 

  “No what?” Clu asked, grinning.

 

  “None of that,” Tron repeated, shaking his head. “Just no.”

 

  Clu walked closer to him and looked in his face closely. This was a security program, he remembered, designed to fight, not to negotiate.

 

  “I can choose for you,” Clu said. Tron looked at him helplessly. “Rectify. And you will be free. You can fight for the Grid once more. You will get your capabilities restored.”

 

  “You will make me hunt down the User,” Tron whispered. “I might attack my own Creator, should we ever meet.”

 

  “Flynn picked his own fate just the same, when he sided with the ISOs.”

 

  Tron was silent. He must have deliberated between the options, the one Clu had described and the other one offered. The other one; to never be more than a slave, to wait for his chance to run or fight somehow, the chance that might never come. The one that came with no gain, except for the certainty that he would not be forced to fight fellow programs or Users ever.

 

  “I stay myself,” Tron said. He was resigned, but stoic.

 

  “Alright,” Clu nodded. “Stay yourself.”

 

  He started toward Tron. The program raised his hand quickly, refusing.

 

  “Do you really think I want to be with you?” he asked.

 

  “I’ll find that out now,” Clu replied. Tron spun on his heels and began to run toward the closed door. Clu reached him before he could have gotten there; he hooked an arm around Tron’s waist from behind and lifted him up from the floor. The program was kicking and punching as much as he could; he began flailing even wilder when he realized that Clu was taking him to the bedchamber. It was pointless – even before, as an operational security program, he had not been as strong as the system administrator had been and now he stood no chance. Clu threw him down on the bed and Tron started climbing to get away immediately. Clu grabbed his thighs and pulled him back. He forced the program’s legs apart and pushed in between, with his hands pinning Tron’s arms down. Clu looked down and his eyes met Tron’s surprisingly calm stare.

 

  “I’m not doing it,” Tron said quietly. Clu raised one hand and touched the program’s face gently.

 

  “We have done it,” he said. “You gave permission.”

 

  “I revoke it,” Tron said. He appeared to be almost relaxed, as if he was not lying in Clu’s arms, on an enemy ship, surrounded by a whole army. Clu took the program’s wrists in one hand before responding.

 

  “You can’t,” he said. “I've got your disc, remember?”

 

  Clu put his hand on Tron’s chest and disintegrated all the program’s attire. Tron’s eyes widened. Clu touched his skin and the light blue circuits flared up right away, the way they had done it once under a lover’s hands. Tron’s lips opened as if he was about to scream – then he remained silent. He turned his face away when Clu leaned there to kiss him. With his free hand Clu reached there and held Tron’s jaw as he kissed the program. When their lips parted Clu saw a tear rolling down on the program’s face from under his closed eyelids. Clu let his own attire dissolve and laid on top of Tron. Their circuits were connecting already and Tron was shaking from the unwanted pleasure.

 

  Clu stopped. Eagerness clouded his mind already, but there was no need to rush; Tron was lying under him, pinned down and nobody was coming to disturb, let alone to save the program. Clu smoothed the hair from Tron’s face and the program opened his eyes. There was no grudge in those grey eyes, no hate, only sadness and suddenly Clu understood why he was not screaming and arguing. They were both going with their own programming, their directives that eventually conflicted with each other. Clu was always going to create the perfect system and Tron was always trying to protect the User; the contrast between their protocols was a fact, and not something that any yelling or talking would have made any difference about. One of their few own choices had been to choose each other, to love, when it had been still an option. The times when their directives would not interfere, had passed and this, this here was what desire became between the new circumstances.

 

  Tron’s eyes closed. Clu hesitated for a short moment before reaching out hungrily and opening up the stream of energy between them. Knowing the truth was not going to stop him, especially since this was the only way to have what he wanted. The program’s body tensed under him from the pleasure; Tron was sobbing silently. Clu was looking at him and he felt his anger evaporating at last, for his world, finally, was perfect.

 

 


End file.
